I’m Grateful For . . .

In November, it is required that every person in the country make a list of things they’re grateful for. If  you don’t–you’re not a true American. But along with being thankful for food, clothing, shelter and chocolate, I am grateful for so much more.

I’m grateful for:

  • Underwear that doesn’t leave panty-lines.

(I think she might have some permanent damage.)

  • The fact that I’ll NEVER have to take an algebra class ever, ever, ever again.
  • Kim Kardashian’s fairy-tale wedding. What a true love story.

(This has restored my faith in the institution of marriage. I think they’ll be happy for ever and ever and ever. . .)

  • The platypus. How cool is that thing?
  • Dental floss. Not because it removes that make-believe plaque my dentist keeps nagging me about, but because if you ever need to tie off a severed artery–floss is your best friend.

(Get off my case, Mr. Bicuspid from hell!!!)

  • The Jersey Shore Christmas Ornament collection. Who wouldn’t want dem hangin’ from yo’ tree?

(All they need now is a Christmas CD. Possible titles: “Santa and his Hos,” “$%&* the Halls” or “Rudolph Shot Grandma With a Glock.”)

  • Fiction. Because reality sucks.
  • Daughters who aren’t currently in prison.
  • This picture:

(Bwahahahahaha!!!!! I think I just peed.)

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

The Many Reasons I Exercise

‘Tis the season to eat my body weight in pie. And because I do, I try to hit the gym several days a week to keep my frumpy, matronly figure up to snuff. But it’s not only my Elizabeth Taylor figure (the later years) that keeps me going to the gym. There are lots of reasons to exercise on a regular basis (like every holiday season).

If you’re looking for a reason to exercise, feel free to use any of these ideas as motivation to hit the treadmill:

  • Exercise is a buffer against dementia. Recent medical studies show that people who exercise . . . ummm. People who. . . hmmmm. What was the question?
  • There are really cool new fusion workouts like yoga/kickboxing, boot camp/ballet and, my personal favorite, watching TV/eating junk food.
  • Exercising will improve your vocabulary. I’ve learned a variety of new swear words while working out at the gym.
  • Due to my high blood sugar levels, my sweat smells like vanilla frosting.
  • When I use my Thighmaster at the gym, I get lots of inquisitive looks.

(Have you seen this? It can do ANYTHING!!)

  • Exercise has been shown to improve vision. Then you can read that big number on the scale.

(I tend to lean more toward the rhino side of the scale.)

  • I can catch up on the latest Justin Bieber hits on my iPod.
  • People who exercise live longer. Or at least they feel like they’re living longer. Seriously? I’d rather be dead than run a marathon.
  • I look HOT in leg warmers. . .

(. . .but my heels keep getting stuck in the elliptical machine.)

  • Exercise is supposed to improve your social life, increase your libido (hell yeah), brighten your mood, get you a raise and promotion, solve world hunger, end government fighting, improve your sleep, prevent (and cure) cancer and keep you out of prison. But as long as I can still get in my car without a pry bar–that’s all that matters.

Children’s Books that Messed Me Up

I can point to many reasons why I’m a little “off” at times. Lack of social skills, fear of small animals and an unexplained anger toward anything purple are just a few of my quirks. After years of trying to explain myself, I’ve decided to blame the stories I was read as a child.

Such as:

Martha Matilda O’Toole: A little girl goes to school completely naked. However, people remind her she forgot her pen, her shoes, her books, etc. It’s not until the end of the story they mention she’s not wearing a dress. Freakin’ perverts.

(Moral: Don’t trust your neighbors. They’re probably pedophiles.)

The Five Chinese Brothers: This nightmare-inducing story taught me there are lots of horrible ways to be executed. I personally would have chosen to be smothered in whipped cream. I figured I’d just eat my way out.

Millions of Cats: Lesson learned from this book: Cats can never, never be trusted. If they eat each other, they will eat you.

(Here kitty, kitty, kitty. Please don’t destroy our planet.)

Caps for Sale: Lesson learned from this book: Monkeys can never, never be trusted. They will eat you. I mean, they will steal from you. And probably eat you, too.

Madeline: The only time I considered living in a convent was when I read about this little girl being raised by nuns in Paris. It also made me want to get my appendix out. (Still have my appendix.)

(I always wanted a nun to run down the hall to save me. Wait. I think that’s my brother-in-law’s fantasy.)

Pierre: A Cautionary Tale in Five Chapters and a Prologue:  In this fable, Pierre just doesn’t give a shit about anything. Until a lion eats him. (Another reason for me to fear mammals.) My sisters and I would act this story out as a play. Pierre basically had one line: “I don’t care.” Nailed it!

(Pierre was a stubborn little brat. Like most children.)

The Little Engine That Could:  This feisty little, blue engine just knew he could do whatever he set his mind to accomplish. Yeah. More bullshit we try to sell to kids.

(“I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.” No, you can’t. Go watch TV.)

My Top 5 Favorite Body Parts

Every women’s magazine tells us to dress to enhance our favorite body part. They probably mean things like cleavage, legs or butt–but my favorite body parts are none of those. My knees are wrinkled, my butt is saggy and  my boobs haven’t been in the same location as my chest since the birth of my first child.

But after much thought, I DID find some body parts I’ve grown rather attached to. These are things I’m rather proud of (for better or worse):

#1. My foot phalanges (that’s toes for those of you who didn’t attend medical school): Although my brother teased me for years about the size of my toes (thanks to therapy, I’m doing much better now), my long toes are very useful. I use my toes to pick up socks, tissues, towels and even play the piano (not well). They can also deliver a good pinch when necessary.

(It’s hard to find shoes that fit well.)

#2. My Lungs: I’m not sure how I would dress to enhance my lungs (which is NOT the same as cleavage) but I’ve come to appreciate breathing on a regular basis.

#3. My Earlobes: Earlobes are highly underrated. They serve no biological function but they’re perfect for holding diamond studs or sterling silver hoops (Christmas ideas for anyone looking for a gift for me). They don’t get wrinkly or sag (at least not yet), there’s no earlobe cancer (that I’m aware of) and they don’t grow unnecessary hair. (Unlike OTHER body parts I can think of–cheeks, upper lip, forehead, etc.)

#4: Cervical Vertebrae: Ah, the neck bones. The job of these poor suckers is to hold my head up all. day. long. And my noggin is pretty heavy. (Imagine how the cervical vertebrae of a Brontosaurus felt). Those bones also respond pretty well when my husband runs his fingers along them.

#5: The Index Finger on my Right Hand: This extraordinary digit is a multi-tasking tool. It can point out exactly what I need, or help out when I’m arguing. It’s great for scooping out cookie dough or frosting and can be used to get that dried booger out of my nose. It clicks my mouse, spreads my lip gloss, starts the microwave, smooths my eyebrows and scrolls through images. And it sits right next to the finger I use when I’m driving.

(See how useful it is!!)

Happy Whoreoween

(This is scarier than any horror movie.)

Helping little girls grow up too quickly, costume companies have sexed-up Halloween costumes for grade school children. Last year, third-grade girls came to my door wearing belly shirts, mini-skirts, fishnet stockings and lipstick. Isn’t there a vice squad created to prevent this? Where’s CSI: SVU when you need them?

Halloween has become “Whoreoween.” Instead of being a regular, innocent cowgirl or princess, little girls are now Raunchy Rodeo Cowgirls with a sexy lasso and spurs, or Peek-A-Boo Princess with fake boobs and high heels. Come on! Our kids are sexified early enough.

(If these little girls come to your door, hand them a coat.)

Adult women and teenage girls have used Whoreoween as an excuse to dress and act like a slut for years and years.  As long as men have eyeballs, you’ll have your naughty nurses and frisky pirate wenches–but seriously, do we need lascivious loan officers, vampy veterinarians or saucy sanitation engineers? Do you really want to see a lusty lunch lady in a push-up bra and stilettos? (If you answered “yes,” there’s a good chance you’re a man.)

But enough is enough when it comes to little kids.

Last year, a fifth grader came to my door, set up a stripper pole on my porch and started to perform. Luckily, it was cold and her bare belly froze to the pole. I called 9-1-1 and went back to watching TV. (I’m just kidding. I gave her some candy first.)

Can we return to innocence? I was Princess Leia when I was 8–and I didn’t stuff my bra. Hell, I didn’t even WEAR a bra. I wasn’t trying to be sexy or seduce the many Han Solos and Luke Skywalkers there were in my class. I just wanted candy, dammit. There was no hidden sexual agenda on Halloween.

IT WAS ALL ABOUT THE CANDY.

Things That Are Truly Frightening

Halloween is approaching with a bloody axe and heavy footsteps. Between “American Horror Story” and “Paranormal Activity,” I’ve been thinking about the things that really scare me. The things that raise my knuckle hair and put a hard knot in my liver.

Besides terror-inflicting things like snakes, clowns and Kristin Stewart’s “acting,” there are things I find much creepier—and more psychologically damaging.

(Kristin and Werewolf Guy With No Shirt “act” out a scene from that sparkly vampire movie.)

The Sound of Silence: Have you ever awakened in the night, everything is pitch black and there isn’t one single sound? You KNOW that someone is standing VERY close to you, trying hard to be quiet. You can hear them not breathing. Nightmares ensue.

Noises in the Night: Or, you wake up in the night, everything is pitch black and you hear  footsteps in the hall. Is one of the kids sick? Is the dog roaming? No. There’s no one there. Even though you’re CONVINCED you heard footsteps. Sleep flees.

IMGP0246

(Was that a reptilian alien slithering down the hall to suck out my eyeballs–or was it the ice maker?)

The Nightly News: Death, destruction and terror–all narrated by good-looking people with lots of make-up. News anchors LOVE to use fearful words like “horrific,” “cataclysmic” and “elections.” After watching footage on serial killers, animal abuse and the soon-to-happen world-wide pandemic, I’ve stopped watching the news.

Bathroom scales: Nothing is more frightening than climbing on the bathroom scale. Whether you weigh yourself daily, weekly or yearly, the number on the scale will determine your mood and self-esteem for the next 48 hours.

 (Don’t tell me what to do, you damn appliance! Someone get me a Twinkie!)

Shopping for swimming suits: Clichéd but true. Do NOT make me stand in a fluorescently-lit cubicle while trying to put on a stretchy square of fabric that wouldn’t keep my hamster warm, let alone cover all my important bits. (Note: “Hamster” is not a code word for my important bits.)

GOP candidates: Really? We’re supposed to put our support behind one of these candidates when they’re all acting like The Real Housewives of Washington, DC.?

(The start of candidate season. So, where do I get a hunting license?)

Social Situations: Does my breath smell? Do I look fat? Is my make-up smeared? Do my shoes match? Do I talk too much? Talk too little? Say the wrong thing? Have ketchup on my cheek? Eat too much? Have a booger in my nose? Do I have eye boogers? Did I put both earrings in? AAAARRRGGGHHHH!!!

Earthquakes: Utahns are always warned about The Big One. No, not Roseanne Barr returning to the state, but the 7.0 earthquake predicted to hit sometime in the next 50 years. I’d prepare, but I’m too scared.

(Well said, most interesting man in the world. Well said.)

Top 5 Ways to Tell It’s Fall in Utah

There are many signs that fall is upon us, especially in Utah. The mountains are gorgeous with autumn leaves, the air is crisp and clean, and tank tops are put away for another year. (Sigh.) But there are other, more subtle signs, like these top 5 ways to tell it’s fall in Utah.

#1. Orange is everywhere. Usually reserved for the ever-present road construction barriers in the state, in autumn, the men start wearing bright orange clothes so, when they go deer hunting, their friends won’t shoot them. But friends still shoot their hunting buddies. (“That’s part of the adventure, sweetie.”)

(This is how your hunter friend sees you after he’s downed a six-pack of Miller Lite.)

#2. School Vacation Days.  Because going to school EVERY weekday is EXHAUSTING, October brings many days off of school for our young ‘uns. Fall recess is a 4-day weekend that parents can “bond” with their kids over the autumn splendor. And by “bond” I mean spend the weekend fighting until school starts again on Monday. Then there’s a day off for parent-teacher conferences, and any other day the school board throws in. I’m surprised they didn’t have Columbus Day (Columbus’ Day? Columbus’s Day? Columbi Day?) off. Or National Boss Day.

#3. Halloween candy. My nemesis. My downfall. My albatross. My secret love. Tis the season to stash bags of Halloween candy around the house. Not to give away to cute little princesses and cowboys on Halloween, but to sneak away and nibble on when life gets stressed. Like every day from dawn to dusk. And sometimes midnight.

(This is how I want to die. Face down in a pile of Halloween candy.)

#4. The Annual Deer Hunt. Once a year, the testosterone level in the state reaches its peak and men take to the hills to hunt the elusive, and dangerous, white-tail deer. Of course, they usually end up just getting drunk and shooting at each other (see #1) or wandering off and getting lost in the Rockies. Either way, it’s Darwin’s theory at its finest.

 

#5. Temperature Fluctuations.  You wake up in the morning and it’s a brisk 45 degrees. You don sweaters, wooly socks and pants–and two hours later, when the temperature jumps to 75 degrees, you’re slowly roasting in your own juices. By bedtime, it’s freezing again. It’s like a striptease all day long. Take off the sweater, put on the shorts. Take off the shorts, put on the Snuggie. Repeat at least two more times daily.

Working from home: Pros and Cons

I’ve been working from home as a journalist/freelance writer for about 18 months and, while I thoroughly enjoy being home, there are some definite drawbacks to not going into an office.

If you a) need a boss breathing down your neck, b) enjoy gossiping around the water cooler or c) like flirting with the office staff, then working at home probably isn’t for you. (Although, since my husband also works from home, there’s a bit of flirtatious behavior at times. Usually when I’m not home.)

Anyway. If you’re considering making the move from office to kitchen table, here are some pros and cons for you to consider:

Pros:

  • It’s Casual Friday everyday!!! (If I’m dressed before noon, it’s a miracle.)
  • You never have to miss an episode of Dr. Oz.
  • My kitchen is my office–so there is food around me all the time. (This is also a “con.”)
  • I can set my own schedule. It’s usually something like this:

7:00–Wake Up

8:30–Drag myself out of bed

8:55–Eat something

9:00–Drag myself to the gym

9:10–Go back home

9:30–Shower

9:35–Eat Breakfast

10:30–Catch up on Facebook/Twitter/Blogs/Etc.

12:00–Get Dressed

12:15–Rest/Eat lunch

2:00–Eat post-lunch

3:00–Research an article I’m working on

3:05–Nap time

5:00–Eat pre-dinner

5:30–Repeat the 10:30 events

6:30–Eat dinner (this also usually includes making dinner)

8:00–Watch DVRd shows from the last two weeks

10:00–Bedtime

Cons:

  • Trying to write an article while  my teenage daughter watches “South Park.” (My favorite episode is when Cartman thinks he’s dead. Hahahahahahaha!!!!)
(They can’t hurt me, Butters. I’m already dead.)
  • Nowhere to meet for professional business meetings. (Note: McDonald’s has a lovely play area.)
  • My kitchen is my office–so there is food around me all the time. (This is also a “pro.”)
  • I forget how to talk to people face-to-face.
  • Getting “dressed up” means not wearing pajama bottoms and a T-shirt.
  • Going to Wal-Mart for milk and glitter becomes the highlight of your day.

I hope these words of free advice help you decide whether you want to stay shackled to a desk or become one of the many Americans living below poverty level. Either way, my prayers are with you.

Ego Check

On Wednesday, WordPress featured my blog on its Freshly Pressed page (thank you!) and my hits went through the ROOF! I’ve been pecking out this blog since April and I usually get around 50 hits per day. So when I looked at my blog on Wednesday and saw nearly 500 hits, I was floored. In the next 2 days, I had more than 5,000 people visit my blog and leave some really cool comments.

I’m usually not the type of person that seeks fame, fortune or fans (okay. . .maybe fortune) but in the course of 48 hours, my ego expanded. As did the size of my head.

If you ever have the same “10-to-15-minutes-of-fame” type experience, here are some ego-stages you can expect to go through:

Compulsive Behavior: I started checking the hits on my blog every TWO minutes–if not more. It was addicting to watch the number jump from 15 views in the morning to more than 1,000 views just a few hours later. Clicking my mouse was more of a nervous tic than an actual conscious movement. I started sneakily checking my blog–because my husband kept laughing at me. (I think he was just jealous.)

Writing Out My Award Speech: After all the positive remarks, I figured the next step for my blog was to win the Pulitzer Prize for Humor Blogging. (If that’s not a category, it should be.) I began writing my acceptance speech. “I’d like to thank all the little people who made this day possible. I can’t think of your names right now, but you probably know who you are. And thank you, Jesus.”

(This would make a great Pulitzer belt buckle.)

Crash and Burn: After the initial elation of having people VISIT my blog (wah?!?!), I prepped myself for the future as a world-famous blogger. But by Friday (today), visits to my blog had dropped significantly. I’d already been forgotten. People were moving on to the more current, younger, more beautiful bloggers. It was inevitable. My head shrank back to its normal size and I put my Pulitzer acceptance speech in a drawer for another time. (It’s pertinent for many other Pulitzer prizes.)

Oh, the Pressure!!! After life returns to normal, how can I ever blog again? Can I still be witty? Relevant? (Was I EVER witty and/or relevant?) How will I ever address all the humor needs of the blog world? AAARRRGGGGHH!! I can’t stand the pressure. I need to eat some chocolate and take a nap.

My previously ego-swollen head is now pounding with inadequacy. Thanks WordPress.

Top 5 Things I Hope to Never Wear

(If I wear anything around my neck that could double as a doily, perhaps I should stop dressing myself.)

I’ve reached the age where fashion can fall victim to comfort. I’ve been known to wear sweats most of the day and don flip-flops instead of cute sandals. But here are five things I hope to NEVER wear. If you see me wearing ANY of these items, feel free to stop me in the street and remove the offensive item. Thank you for your support.

#1: Elastic-waist slacks. I’m sure they’re super comfy and s-t-r-e-t-c-h-y, but if I’m wearing corduroy or velvet “slacks,” or denim “jeans” with an elastic waist, just shoot me. Especially if they’re too short–and I’m wearing loafers. With white socks.

#2: A Housedress. Who hasn’t seen their grandmother or mother wearing this lovely and shapely design? Just a note to my daughters: If you buy me a housedress for any holiday–you’re out of my will.

(Don’t let this happen to you.)

#3:  Knitted Waistcoat. What the hell does this even mean?

#4: Velcro sneakers.  If I wear ANY shoes that need to be fastened with velcro, then it’s time to wheel me out to the garbage can. Especially if they feature Dora the Explorer. And they light up when I walk.

(All I need are some scrubs.)

#5. TIE: Senior Citizen Discount Hat and Dining Bib.  Really?!?! Why would I ever wear a hat that screams “Call the funeral home ASAP”? And as for the bib. If I’m drooling so much I need a bib, just wipe me off with my housedress.

(Perhaps you could just put  a cup under my chin. Or this hat.)      

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